Broken Machine
by Ruby Rosetta Red
Summary: Three short one shots following on from 'There's Nobody Praying For Me' and 'Coda'. First one, 'Kiss': Set immediately after the events of 'Coda' and Bucky takes Alex home. 'Thunderstorm': Bucky shows up for their date and shares something with her. 'Breakdown' After a rough night, Alex tries to get Bucky to open up to her just a little. Set post CW and non IW compliant.
1. Chapter 1

**Set immediately after the final chapter of 'Coda'. Bucky takes Alex home after their talk at the Washington Complex. Short. The title says it all. Thoughts appreciated.**

* * *

 **Kiss.**

The loud purr of the motorbike is the only sound that fills the air this late at night. Bucky smiles softly to himself as he navigates the roads, feeling the cool silky air brush against his skin, how the breeze tugs his hair back from his face. Traffic is light, easy to navigate. He's aware of Alex behind him, of her arms wrapped tightly around his upper body and holding on. She seems comfortable on the bike, leaning in with each corner he has to negotiate, careful not to distract him whilst he drives though if he's to be honest, he's distracted plenty just by the feel of her pressed up against his back.

They turn onto the street where her bar is located, pulling up smoothly outside of it. Bucky kills the engine and the silence is sudden. He looks over his shoulder as Alex lets go of him and climbs off the bike. He kicks the stand into place and does likewise, turning to look at her again, seeing her remove the helmet, pulling her braid from the back of her jacket. She looks at him and she smiles.

"You okay?" he asks and she just nods.

"First time on a bike can be weird if you're not used to it," he tells her, noticing how her knees can't quite hold her weight and he sees her smile some more, briefly glancing down at her feet.

"It was fine, fun. I'm sure I'll get used to it quickly enough."

Bucky lifts both eyebrows in surprise. "You wanna ride again?" he asks, slightly incredulous and sees her smile widen, a grin appear.

"With you? Absolutely. I might even get you to teach me how to ride one of these things one day," she answers and he looks at the gleaming black and chrome machine and somehow can't really imagine her in control of such a beast but stranger things have happened and he has no doubt she'll be able to do anything she puts her mind to. He looks back at her.

"Maybe I will," he murmurs.

For a moment they just stare at each other before Alex blinks. Bucky watches as she puts the helmet on the back of the bike, fastening it securely and once she's done, she approaches him, looking into his eyes.

"You gonna walk me to my door Sergeant?" she enquires in a soft voice and Bucky blinks at the use of his old army rank.

"Does it bring back bad memories?" she continues as if realising that it possibly could and after a second he just shakes his head.

"Uh…no. It's just been a while," he quietly confesses.

"I won't use it again if it makes you uncomfortable."

"Didn't say it made me uncomfortable, just that it's been a while and its fine." He seems to give pause. "I like how you say it."

Her eyes light up a little. "Yeah?"

His eyes drop to her mouth. "Yeah," he whispers, his voice roughening a little. He reaches for her hand, sliding the fingers of his right hand through hers. "And I'll walk you to your door," he continues.

* * *

He watches her as she unzips her jacket pocket and takes out a key ring, sees her slot the key into the right hole and twist it. Pushes open the door and as she does she looks at him. She can feel him pressed up against her, warm and vital, their fingers still entwined. She then tugs him inside, the suddenness of her movement giving her momentum as he stumbles slightly across the threshold and into the empty bar.

"I need to switch off the alarm before it wakes up the whole neighbourhood," she tells him, letting go of his hand and he watches her disappear into the shadows. Can hear a quiet bleep that seems to become more rapid as time progresses and he braces himself for the loud blare that's surely to follow. It doesn't happen and he turns his head and sees Alex reappear, her skin pale in the shadows, easy to see, easy to find. She smiles at him, takes his hand once more.

"Want some coffee?" she asks, drawing him further into the cavernous room. He's not used to seeing it so empty and silent, in shadow with no music playing in the background or sounds of life going on. Something prickles down the back of his neck and instinct makes him frowns slightly against the unease it creates. Light from the kitchen slithers into the bar and his gaze flicks to it and then back to her once more

"It's late…I should be…" He uses a thumb to indicate the closed door behind him and sees the brief flash of disappointment that crosses her face.

"And if I drink coffee at this hour then I won't sleep tonight," he tells her, not that he really sleeps well to begin with but he tries to avoid caffeine this late. Feels her let go of his hand and she takes a half step back.

"Oh. Of course."

He feels her disconnect keenly and quietly sighs as he goes to physically breach the gap between them.

"I thought… I tried to explain, I thought you understood…" Words fade away as he looks into her eyes.

"I do. I'm sorry, I'm the one who overstepped this time. You need to get used to the idea of there being an us and here I am rushing you. I'm sorry. It's just that…I want to see you, spend time with you," she confesses, keeping her voice low. Sees the faint frown that comes and goes.

"This isn't your fault Alex, I just need time that's all…I want everything that you want, believe me but the way I'm wired, the way that I am… I just need…time." And her understanding. He desperately wants her to understand.

She hears the frustration in his voice and she lifts a hand and gently touches his cheek, feeling the scrape of stubble against the palm of her hand.

"It's fine Bucky, it really is. Take all the time that you need." Her voice lowers to a whisper and he just stares at her as if gauging whether to believe her or not. Then he lowers his head and he gently kisses her. His lips brush softly against hers at first and her eyes slide shut at the contact, feeling her heart begin to thump in her chest. She feels an arm slide around her waist and anchor her up against him and at the same time he deepens the embrace and the hand that cradles his cheek slides down to his shoulder and then slips around his neck as her lips part beneath his. For a moment there's silence, apart from the sound of their kiss. She feels her heartbeat rev up, her stomach dip and her centre begin to pulse and throb as she presses herself up against the long length of his body. She hears him quietly groan, his right hand touching her cheek, fingertips stroking the soft skin there. Finally he pulls back and he's breathing heavier, that slight frown back between his eyes but he doesn't let go of her.

She's breathing just as heavily, her body throbbing still. With every part of her being she wants to invite him upstairs, to take this further but he's not ready. Already she can see a slice of the wildness he's previously hinted at in his slate blue eyes. Instead she slides both of her arms around his neck and hugs him to her and his other arm slides around her waist to lock her in further and she can hear his ragged breathing against her ear, she can feel his reaction to her, he's rock hard and she can imagine that he's struggling to process that more than anything else. He holds her close nonetheless, his face turning into the side of her neck and they stay like that for a moment or two and gradually their breathing calms, their pulses settle. She braces her hands on his shoulders and draws back a little to look at him. His eyes are somewhat calmer now.

"Everything okay?" she enquires, keeping her voice low. He slowly nods and then let's go of her.

"I'd better get going." Once more he indicates the door behind him and she nods, stepping out of his embrace.

"Can I come by tomorrow?" he asks.

Alex nods.

"Maybe we can do something? Go out for coffee?" he suggests, the tone of his voice a little on the hesitant side and she realises how much courage it takes him to ask her this. She dimples a soft smile his way.

"I'd like that," she answers softly and sees his gentle smile in response.

"I'll see you tomorrow then…what time would be good for you?" he asks.

Alex shrugs, feeling her pulse flutter a little at the thought of spending time with him, even just over a cup of coffee.

"Any time," she replies, sounding a little breathless.

"Say, two o'clock then, once the lunch crowd has died down a little?" he suggests and she nods.

"Two is fine," she confirms and once again he smiles, one of faint satisfaction.

"I'll see you then," he promises and turns.

Alex takes a slow deep breath and quietly exhales as she watches him walk away from her, out of the bar and to his bike.

Baby steps, she reminds herself.


	2. Thunderstorm

**Alex waits to see whether Bucky will show up for their coffee date. Later on, Bucky shares something personal with her. Inspired by a gif set that I saw on Tumblr several weeks ago, he opens up about what it was like being Hydra's mythical assassin. All errors are my own and unintentional. Thoughts appreciated.**

* * *

 **Thunderstorm.**

She waits in the bar for him to arrive.

She tries not to show how nervous she's feeling but her heart thrums in her chest all the same as she sits with Callum for company and tries not to scrutinise every single soul that passes by the window. The bar is quieter now, the lunch crowd been and gone with only a few of their regulars in residence. It'll fill up again in time for the end of the work day and even then Callum has told her not to hurry back, that he has everything in hand to cover for her.

Will he show up? She's not completely sure that he will if she's to be brutally honest. A part of her expects Steve to show up instead with another excuse. The whole reason why she went to the complex the day before was because Steve persuaded her to, made her understand Bucky's whole reason for not showing up after the mission as he originally promised to do. Sat over a cup of coffee in the kitchen and explained those reasons to her, why he wasn't able to sit here in his place and tell her himself.

That he was afraid and didn't think he was worth a moment of her time.

"You okay?" Callum's voice is low and concerned and she looks at him. Her answering smile is faint. "He'll show," he tacks on as if reading her mind and this time Alex shrugs. Remembers the kiss she shared with Bucky in the bar late last night and how it made her feel. Still makes her feel. She didn't get a lot of sleep last night just thinking about him.

She hopes the kiss hasn't scared him off for good this time.

"Maybe," she concedes. She won't let herself get her hopes up. The last time she did that, he disappeared for five days.

"Yeah he will," Callum tells her and she looks into his eyes again when she hears the subtle change of tone and sees the half-smile on his face, a knowing half smile and he glances over her shoulder and she turns her head.

Bucky stands in the doorway.

He's in jeans, a t-shirt with an unbuttoned plaid shirt over it, his baseball cap on his head. Sunshine pouring around him, throwing him into shadow.

Alex's smile broadens into a grin as she slides off the stool and grabs her jacket and purse and she heads towards him.

* * *

Bucky watches her approach him and she sees how his eyes are slightly wide, as if he's not quite able to believe that he's here or that she's there in front of him. She takes his right hand in her left, sliding her fingers through his.

"Hey. You made it," she breathes and for a moment he just stares at her.

"I wasn't sure if I was gonna," he confesses and his brow wrinkles in a frown as if thinking perhaps he shouldn't have said that out loud. She squeezes his fingers and he glances down at their joined hands. She goes to let go but he holds on and she's still.

"But you did."

A gentle smile softens his face. "I did," he murmurs to her.

"Then let's go," she tells him and he allows her to lead him out of the bar.

* * *

The afternoon sun blazes down on them as they head away from the bar and for a moment or two neither of them speak.

"Where do you wanna go?" Bucky asks her as they pause at an intersection. He takes in his surroundings, keeping half an eye on the pedestrians who mill around them and past them. He looks at her when he feels her squeeze his fingers again.

"I have the entire afternoon so why don't we just walk? I don't often get to do this, while away an afternoon."

His eyes scan her face for a second.

"Sounds like a plan. Kinda," he answers with a faint smile.

"The kinda plans are usually the best ones," she whispers.

* * *

They pick up coffee to go at a small independent coffee shop near to a park. Bucky smiles at her as he hands her one of the sturdy paper cups which has the store's logo emblazoned on it. She accepts it with one of her own. She sat on a stool by the window and watched him approach the barista and make his requests and wait patiently while they were made up. She saw how he attempted to make small talk as he waited, his smiles gentle, even breaking out in a grin once or twice as he paid for both drinks and took his change. She slides off the stool as he approaches her, hands her her drink and together they head out. It's too nice a day to be cooped up indoors.

They head into the park, fingers linked loosely together, their cups in their other hands. They still don't talk all that much, don't feel the need to, not really. There are a few people milling around, taking advantage of the clement weather and Alex pays them little attention as they wander by but she knows that Bucky will be. He's watchful, cautious and it's a habit he'll probably never really break.

They sit together on a patch of sloping grass overlooking a huge lake. The surface of the water glitters beneath the light, rippled by a gentle breeze. Alex sips at her coffee and doesn't offer anything by means of conversation, noticing the pensive expression on Bucky's face as he stares out across the water, realising that he's enjoying the peace. He's taken off his baseball cap and she watches the breeze play with his hair.

"I don't like thunderstorms."

It comes completely out of left field and Alex blinks.

"What?"

He turns his head and he looks at her. "I don't like thunderstorms," he repeats. Alex wonders what she's supposed to say to that.

"Okay." Watches him slowly turn his head back to stare out across the water again and he draws his knees up and loops his arms around them, the coffee cup hanging loosely between both hands.

"I mean I used to. My mom used to open all the windows in the apartment when a storm was brewin', used to drive my dad crazy because the rain would get in, soak the drapes, leave puddles on the floor but she ignored him and kept opening those damned windows. I used to find it…exciting I guess." He slowly shakes his head at the memory.

"It's kinda strange, I'm beginning to remember bits and pieces about my life; before joinin' up, before the War, before…" His voice trails away and he glances down at the patch of grass between his legs and doesn't go on but she knows what he means. Before the Winter Soldier.

"But I still can't remember what my mom looked like." His voice is quiet and regretful.

"Maybe you will one day," Alex responds and moves closer to him so that their shoulders are pressed together. Bucky turns his head back in her direction and a faint smile crosses his face.

"Maybe," he concedes.

"The day we met, it was thundering. It was one of the reasons why I offered you a place to stay."

"I remember," he replies huskily.

They just look at each other as they remember; she found him slumped between two dumpsters, soaked by the rain, bruised, in pain from a dislocated shoulder and confused by a short circuiting unreliable memory. Leaving him there just hadn't been an option for her.

"It was after that though. When I was in New York, a thunderstorm woke me up and I didn't know what the hell was going on, what was happening. I was screamin' so loud that my neighbours thought I was bein' murdered. Nearly called the cops."

Remembers coming to in the corner of the wreckage of his poky little room, hiding behind an upturned mattress, shaking, eyes wet, throat raw. Terrified. People hammering on his door, almost busting it off its hinges. It took him a little while to gather his wits and enough courage to open it and reassure his neighbours that he was okay, even though he wasn't.

He watches Alex's eyes widen in sympathy.

"So what do you do now when it storms?"

"Keep myself busy, work out in the gym, listen to music through my headphones. I have black out blinds in my room at the New York complex now so that helps. Steve keeps me company if it's a really bad one."

He needs to arrange to have blinds fitted in his room here if he and Alex are going to start spending time together and he sticks around in Washington as he hopes to.

"Why do you think you have such a visceral reaction to them now? Do you think it's got something to do with what you went through?"

She holds her breath, wondering if he's going to answer her. His gaze holds onto hers for a moment and then he just nods.

"Probably."

Once more he looks away from her, squinting against the sunshine, the sparkles on the lake water.

"When I was under…when I was… _him_ …" he begins and his voice falters. Alex remains quiet, still and just watches him, seeing that tiny frown that mars his brow.

"I remember parts of the control protocol Hydra used; the chair, the restraints, the sounds, the _noise_." His voice, already low to begin with, begins to fade away as he does just that.

He can still hear the sparking and crackling noise the headset made as it got close enough to him, the memory vivid enough still to make him break out in a cold sweat and he barely suppresses a shiver right now, a warm spring day.

"When I was… _that_ guy… what Hydra did to me…what I don't think they fully realised is that a tiny piece of me, the old me was kinda… aware, was _awake_ somehow. Some part of me was in there, almost like a passenger in my own body, a spectator. I have memories but they're brief, fleeting, like camera flashes and I'm not really sure if they happened or not." His voice is still low but tight. Jaw tense, shoulders too. He looks back in her direction and she sees the naked pain in those eyes of his and something twists in her own chest at the sight of it.

"I know that I did… was forced to do…awful…unforgivable… things… but if I tried to break free…emotionally then they… would punish me… and wipe me, over and over. Sometimes they did it even if I complied, just because they could. I suppose they just wanted to hear me scream. I thought it was just their way of making sure…that I conformed…stayed loyal but Steve told me…and what I remember now, it was because I kept trying to break free of their protocols." His voice fades away completely as he stares at nothing in particular, his eyes becoming vacant for a moment.

"No matter how many times they did that to you, you still did, you still broke free." Alex murmurs to him. Bucky blinks as he slowly turns his head and looks at her once more but he doesn't say anything in return. Just looks at her.

"That strength of character, the fact that deep inside you're still a good man, no matter what you believe of yourself, that part of you tried to fight its way through every single time," she continues. "Maybe Hydra feared that the most about you, why they controlled you like they did, or at least why they tried to."

He still doesn't answer but she hears him sigh, a thin trembling expulsion of air. She leans against him then, resting her head against his shoulder and is glad that he doesn't flinch or move away from her. "At least that's what I think." She lifts her head and she looks at him again.

"Yeah, but what they left behind…I'm a shell, Alex. They wiped me and they wiped me and at the end there was nothing left. You saw that the day we met." His eyes scan her face, watching her, assessing her reaction.

"You're recovering, Bucky. I can see it…."

"I want you to know what you're getting yourself into, Alex," he interrupts. "Helping me those four days five years ago is something completely different to now. Back then I was…addled. Now… maybe not so much but i'm not without my…"

"Complications?" she fills in.

"Yeah."

"I like complicated. I like you, there's a correlation somewhere don't you think?" She smiles somewhat mischievously at him but he doesn't smile back.

"You shouldn't be so glib. You might not like it three or four months down the line."

It's Alex's turn to sigh.

"There you go again, second guessing me again."

"I just want you to get the full picture, that's all," he exhales and sees her slowly shake her head.

"No, what you're trying to do, yet again, is scare me away and it didn't work before and it won't work now." She holds his gaze and she offers him a soft smile.

"I'm under no illusions Bucky. What we're going to do is see where this thing takes us and enjoy the journey, storms and all. I don't want you to second guess either me or yourself. You _can_ do this and you're worthy of it, no matter what you might think or tell yourself." She leans forwards and steals a tender kiss, a gentle pressure that makes his heart skip a beat, his eyes drift briefly shut at the contact. They blink open when she moves away and he sees the warmth in her blue eyes.

"Now drink your coffee Buck."


	3. Breakdown

**Breakdown.**

Another bad night.

Another early morning. Bright outside, flooding the room in soft pale light.

She sees him curled up on the sofa, arms wrapped around folded up knees and he's staring into nothing but she can tell that there's something going on behind those eyes of his. From the dusty greyish shadows that hollow out each socket to the over brightness that tarnishes the blue. He's reliving the nightmare that hauled him screaming out of the oblivion that was his sleep. The nightmare he can't or won't share with her. She suspects that it's the latter.

She knows because she's been there.

She won't prod him, she's learned that to do that only succeeds into making him withdraw all the more. He's talented at locking himself away in that cell he calls his memories. Fractured and whole ones. How long he keeps himself captive in there depends on how bad the nightmare was. It can be minutes, it can be hours and it can be days. She can't predict. Even now she can't and so she leaves him be.

The terror holds him mute and she longs for the day when he deems her trustworthy enough to let them spill out, to let her share in the pain, to help lance it and allow it to drain but they're not there yet. She doesn't know if that will ever happen. When she's feeling confident, she thinks that he might but at her worst she fears that he never will.

She gets out of bed and walks towards him. He's tucked into the corner of the sofa, spine rigid and deathly still apart from the subtle trembling she can see in his shoulders, the way he holds his head. He doesn't look at her when she slowly sits down beside him and she's careful to leave a gap between them even though what she longs to do the most is wrap her arms around him and hold him close.

He won't let her though so she doesn't.

* * *

She places the tea cup beside him and retakes her seat, holding her own carefully as she tucks her feet beneath her. The room is silent apart from his quiet ragged breathing. She quietly blows on the surface of her own tea before taking that all important first sip.

Time ebbs and flows and fades away.

She doesn't speak as she carefully places the soft blanket around his shoulders, tucking it gently in front of him. Then she reclaims her tea cup as well as her corner of the sofa and watches him. His expression is still so blank, so utterly lost and something twists in the region of her heart at the sight of it. She takes a silent deep breath and licks her bottom lip. She needs to speak, to say something to him, to let him know at least that she's there because she isn't sure that he's aware that she is.

"Hey." Her voice is husky, dry in the silence. She sees the subtle stiffening of his spine and she realises that her guess was correct, he wasn't aware. So completely trapped in his prison cell.

"Do you want to talk about it?" she asks him, keeping her voice just above a whisper. She can all but see the fine hairs lifting on his skin. He's fine tuning, remembering where he is again, connecting back into his surroundings.

Silence blankets them as she waits for his answer, if he will say anything at all that is.

"No." His reply is just as quiet, a bare expulsion of breath on the air and she ignores the sharp nip of disappointment that scratches her skin.

"It could help," she offers again and once again she waits, fingers gripping the porcelain of her cup, ignoring the burn bleaching through.

He still doesn't look in her direction but at least he's acknowledged her.

"Won't."

She wants to remind him that he won't know unless he tries but doesn't. He's only ever hinted at the horrors he's gone through, a whispered late night confession that he really wasn't aware he was making. Telling her about a machine that wiped his memories, did it over and over again. It's a miracle he's still in one piece physically though emotionally, mentally that's a completely different story.

"I made you some tea, it's beside you on the end table. It'll help to soothe you."

He doesn't move. He looks as though he's ready to disappear back into that world again, the one he won't let her in to. She puts her own cup on the second end table beside the paperback that keeps her company most nights and she bridges that small gap on the sofa towards him. Stretches an arm across the back of the cushions and gently rests her hand between his shoulder blades, skin against skin where the blanket has slid down and she looks at the dark brown hair that tangles against the back of his neck. She think sometimes she can see a chestnut cast to it when the light hits it a certain way. She feels him tense, a subtle shift in muscle tension. It should be a warning to her to withdraw, to leave him be but she doesn't move. Waits for him to tell her to leave him alone.

He doesn't.

"I hope that one day you'll let me in, Bucky. I hope you'll feel brave enough to share with me what's going on inside of your head. I promise you that when you're ready, I'll listen."

Slowly he turns his head and he looks at her.

"You've told me about the machine. You told me about how Hydra controlled you and why and the reason why you no longer like thunderstorms," she continues.

"That's just the surface." His voice is gravelly, dry as dust but he's louder this time. Angrier.

"Then let me in."

"Why? Do you think you can help me? People more qualified than you have tried. People closer to me have failed. What makes you think you're so special?" he snaps. She blinks at his words, at their brutal honesty and tries to ignore the pain that lances through her at their muscle.

"I don't think I'm special at all," she tells him. "But right now you're getting angry and that's a positive thing."

"Is it? Because to me it means a loss of control and that's never a good idea."

"I disagree because if you lose control then whatever it is that you're trying to contain inside of you will break free…."

"And do what? Cleanse me? Save me? _Cure_ me?" he rudely interrupts. "What if I hurt you? What if it's worse?"

She sees how his eyes flash, that temper very close to the surface. It scares her but she knows that she can't back down now, no matter what.

"I want to help you Bucky. I want to at least try," she whispers.

"But you can't!" His retaliation is sharp, some of that anger breaking free of its bindings. She almost hears his _'no one can,"_ at the end of it.

His eyes glow in their intensity as he glares at her.

"That's what you don't understand Alex. Any loss of control for me can be dangerous. People have died, blood has been spilled. I don't want to hurt anyone ever again. I can't. I won't."

"So you're just going to let this consume you? Nightmares, insomnia, disconnection. You're going to live with it, let it eat you alive, is that it? Have you decided that it's going to be your punishment?"

"What's the alternative Alex? I warned you about this. You told me that you could cope because you help people and that you understood. Did you think that this was make believe? Did you think you could _save_ me?" His tone becomes scathing, blistering in its heat. He snarls at her but she can see the pain in his eyes, the tears that are gathered at the edges.

"No. I thought I could help because I know a little of what you're going through," she replies, hearing the defensiveness in her voice.

"You don't know _anything_ of what I'm going through," he sneers at her.

"Because you won't talk to me, you won't share it with me or anyone else. You want to get better, you've told me that and the first step towards that is to open that door just a tiny crack and let someone else in, let someone else see it."

"I can't," he tells her through clenched teeth and she sees a couple of those tears leak out.

"Because you're terrified that if you start talking then you won't be able to stop? Good. Let it all out. I'll listen to it. I'll listen to every damn word until you're empty, til you're spent, however long it takes."

More tears are falling now. It seems once they've started that they won't stop and his face crumples in abject pain. She continues to look at him, swallowing against the lump in her own throat swelling at the look on his face, at how he's suffering.

"If you think I'll be horrified, I might be but what I won't do is judge you. Think of me as a conduit, someone to talk at, yell at, scream at if it'll make you feel better."

"I can't do that to you," he whispers shakily, seemingly horrified by that very idea.

"Yeah you can." She moves her hand from between his shoulder blades to around his shoulders. "Yeah you can." She begins to draw him against her. He resists for a moment and then softens, lets himself lean against her. She rests her cheek against the top of his head, feeling the softness of his hair and she slowly strokes his right shoulder above the blanket that still drapes him. Holds him close to her while he allows it.

"Tell me what you were dreaming about," she whispers.


End file.
